Practice Makes Perfect
by juhninja
Summary: Poor Fred Weasley. He had a disease. He was bitten by a dangerous bug that slowly, but surely, changes the way you talk, the way you act, and the way you see people, or rather, a person. What exactly was wrong with Fred? Fred was bitten by the love bug.


**Disclaimer; Standard procedure, and whatnot. Like all dedicated Harry Potter fans, fanfic writers, and fanfic readers, I do not own any Harry Potter. I own the plot. And the pick up lines belong to whomever had the crazy idea to create them. **

**P.S. I am not responsible for any pain that results in the use of the pick up lines in the story.**

**Enjoy. **

* * *

Poor Fred Weasley. He had a disease. He was bitten by a dangerous bug that slowly, but surely, changes the way you talk, the way you act, and the way you see people, or rather, a person. What other symptoms are there? Heavy sweating, especially in the armpit, palm, and face areas. Beware of stuttering like an idiot. Avoid all eye contact, or you'll drown (into the sea of color of your choice.) Caution; steer clear of the person, or emotionally scarring embarrassment may occur. Side effects include dry mouth, red face, constant mirror checks, subconscious breath checks & nose checks, and weird looks from the surrounding population. Unfortunately, there is no single cure to this disease. It is a disease you must simply fix on your own, because you brought it upon yourself. What exactly was wrong with Fred? **Fred was bitten by the love bug.**

"Oh, Merlin!" cried Fred. Currently, Fred Weasley, twin of George Weasley, brother of Charlie, Bill, Percy, Ron, and Ginny Weasley, son of Molly and Arthur Weasley, was in an extremely deep rut. He sat on his creeky bed, in his bedroom of his whole educational career, trying to create a plan to fix his present problem.

The young man ran his fingers through his long vibrant red hair that sat messily upon his busy working cranium. "What am I supposed to do?" He asked to no one in particular, not that he could ask anyone in general. Fred was the only occupant in the room.

_I've finally lost it,_ he thought. _I'm actually talking to myself. "_You're going crazy, man," he whispered to himself. He shut his eyes, and lie back onto the bed.

He groaned in frustration, opened his eyes, and shot up into sitting position. Fred stood up, and strode over to the mirror on the wall, his back towards the door. "You shouldn't let this get to you! You just need to practice. Practice makes perfect, Freddy," he said to himself. _Great, now you're giving yourself a pep talk._ He rolled his eyes at his stupidity. He breathed in deeply, looked into his eyes in his reflection and said, "Hey, baby. Would you do me the favor of accompanying me on a date?"

He groaned. This will never work! He tried again. He stared deeply into his eyes in the reflection and said, "Are your legs tired, because you've been running through my mind all day!" Then he winked.

* * *

As Fred was trying to sort out his wild thoughts, Ginny walked up the stairs of the Burrow, rounding up all the testosterone filled males of the household to tell them to get ready for dinner. _I'm so glad Hermione's here,_ Ginny thought. As she approached the very top stair, she heard Fred's voice from his room. _I wonder what he's up to._ Ginny quickly ran the the nearest wall as quietly as she could, singing the Pokemon Theme Song quietly as she went along, pointing a finger gun in the air. _Gotta Catch 'Em All, _Ginny thought. Hermione showed Ginny a television when she visited Hermione's home the previous month. Pokemon were very strange creatures, but she wasn't one to talk. There were even stranger _real _creatures in the wizarding world.

Ginny was finally in visual range of Fred&George's bedroom, so she tiptoed to the slightly ajar door. "Are your legs tired, because you've been running through my mind all day!" said Fred before winking. _What the bloody hell is he doing?!_ Ginny screamed in her head. She stifled a giggle as she watched her brother flirt…with his own reflection. Oh, goodness, why doesn't he try his flirting skills on George, at least there'd be a reaction! _No, wait…George would probably die of laughter of his brother's attempts at flattery. Good thinking, Fred._ Ginny silently praised Fred. Now, what was the point of this?

* * *

Fred's mind was an even bigger jumbled mess than before. "Fred, you are never going to get a date at this rate! Pull yourself together, man!" He sighed, and slapped his forehead. "Think of something, genius. You own a very, very successful joke shop. You are devilishly handsome. You are hilariously funny. Get a grip. You can do this." He said to himself.

* * *

Ginny almost groaned outload. "God, you are such a conceited prat," she whispered.

"Who is?" a male voice whispered to her left. Ginny squealed quietly. It was only Ron. She shushed Ron, and looked inside the room to see if Fred had noticed anything. _Thank God he's an oblivious conceited prat, or I'd have been caught by now._

"Spying are you, Gin?" Ron mock scolded. "Mum surely raised you better than that."

She merely rolled her eyes. "Stuff it, Ron. Fred's talking to himself, rather loudly, of course. I think he's practicing asking someone out. The question is, who?"

"Its probably that ditzy blonde who chatted him up at the shop the other day," suggested Ron.

"Maybe. Enjoy the show while it lasts though," Ginny smirked.

They peered through the door, watching Fred make a fool of himself. "You must be Jamaican, because Jamaican me crazy."

Ginny and Ron looked at each other and silently snickered. Ginny stuck her finger in her mouth with her tongue out, bringing more giggles out from the two redheads. "What are you two doing?" said a voice, rather loudly under the circumstances, to their right. Someone with messy black hair, glasses, emerald green eyes looked down upon the duo.

"Harry, shhh!" whispered Ron, as he gestured his index finger to his lips, then pointed to the room. Harry rolled his eyes and joined the show.

"What's he doing?" he whispered.

"Asking himself out," answered Ginny nonchalantly. "He's not doing a very good job of it."

* * *

This wasn't going any better for Fred. His brain just couldn't handle all the mess. He felt like he was going to explode! He tried again. "If you were a booger, I'd pick you first," and winked again. Fred stopped for a moment, imagining the situation in his head. He could hear her voice now; "Hahaha, good one Fred. No one would take that seriously!" He rolled his eyes. "Ugh, she'll never say yes!! You're so stupid. Why are you even doing this! You're not good enough for her!" He sighed, then smiled. "No one can resist a Weasley Twin." His smile grew into his mischievous grin. "She'll have to say yes."

* * *

The three teenagers outside of the door couldn't breathe from the hilarious performance. They were very red in the face and tried so hard to contain their laughter they so desperately needed to escape. "You three must be up to no good. What are we missing?" said a voice behind them.

"Hey Bill, hey Charlie. Fred's being his conceited self. He's asking himself out in the mirror. He's been at it for 20 minutes now," said Ginny.

"I used to do that, sadly," whispered Bill. 4 pairs of eyebrows raised at Bill. "What can I say? Practice makes perfect, and it worked, didn't it? I've got Fleur." And he winked.

They turned their heads to continue the show.

* * *

"I've got it!" he snapped his fingers and looked into the mirror again, grinning. "Do you have a map? Because I just keep getting lost in your eyes." And he wiggled his eyebrows. He groaned, completely annoyed now. "Bill said this was supposed to work! I'm just starting to creep myself out now." He sighed. "If this is how he got Fleur, she's the very definition of a dumb blonde. Shoot, I was so close in believing in some substance in that French head." He paused momentarily. "Maybe after I attempt this asking out thing, I can work on my dumb blonde jokes. I can see it now. 'Hey Fleur, how do you drown a blonde? Put a mirror at the bottom of a lake.' She'll be absolutely thrilled!"

* * *

Bill was furious! He was about to stomp into the room and strangle Fred before he asked out any girl. Charlie held him back. Meanwhile, Harry, Ron, and Ginny were clutching at their sides, silently laughing on the floor.

"If you five are spying, you're doing a bloody terrible job of it," said another slightly loud voice.

"Shh!" was the response from the five people, plus five index fingers pointing inside Fred's room.

George grinned. "This'll be good."

* * *

"She's never gonna say yes, Fred! Not with these tricks!" he muttered. "Bill said they're the only way sure fire way, right? They'll work…they'll work."

* * *

"I'm surprised he hasn't noticed 6 people outside of his door. This must be some girl," whispered Ron.

George laughed to himself, then grinned. "If only you knew…"

"What was that?" Bill said.

"Huh?" chorused Ron, Harry, and Ginny.

"Nothing! Shush, you guys. He could notice at any moment. He may be dense, but maybe lightning'll strike and he notices 5 redheads and a scarhead outside his door. No offense, Harry."

Harry merely stuck his tongue out at George.

They returned to Fred's insanity.

* * *

"Where's George when you need him? He could help me…" He finally walked away from his mirror and paced his room. His mind was definitely working past overtime. Why was he working himself so hard over some girl? _Because she's not just _some girl,_ you moron,_ he thought to himself. He ran his hand through his really tangled mass of red hair. "Ouch," he said as his hand ran into a knot. He pulled…and pulled, trying to fix the mess, instead, making it worse in the process. "Oh, Merlin, my hand's stuck!"

* * *

The onlookers outside of the door looked at each other, got up one by one, walked over to the room at the end of the hall, closed the door, placed a Silencing Charm, inhaled, and exploded in laughter. Not wanting to miss much of the show, they returned to their original spots, grinning the whole way.

* * *

_Pull. Tug. Pull. Tug. YANK! _"Bloody hell!" Fred spent the last couple of minutes trying to get his hand out of his hair. How was he going to do this without taking any of his gorgeous hair in the process? _You're a wizard, genius. Use your wand, _his voice of reason said.

Oh. Right. Ahem.

He reached into his right pocket with his left hand, since his right was a bit tangled up. "Leave it to me to get my hand stuck in my hair," he said. "If this could happen to anyone, it should've been Ron."

* * *

"I'll kill him!" Ron whispered murderously, inching towards the open door.

"No!" Ginny pulled him back. "Later."

Ron growled, but gave up. There was no getting past Ginny.

"What a man you've turned out to be, Ron," said Charlie. George, Bill, Harry, and Charlie were holding back their laughter.

It took Ron all of his power and concentration not to hurt his brothers and best friend. He'd rather enjoy watching Fred embarrass himself.

* * *

With a quick spell, Fred's hand was out of his hair. He looked in the mirror, and groaned. "Ugh, my hair's a mess. How am I going to ask her out with hair like this?" He grabbed a brush on his nightstand, and attempted to fix his bird's nest of a hairdo. _Brush. Brush. Bru- _"Oh, no," he whispered. He let go of his brush, expecting it to land on the ground with a soft _thud_, but that _thud_ never came. "No, no, no, no, no!" _Not today of all days,_ he thought.

He sighed, and left the brush in his hair. He should just keep practicing.

* * *

"I think we should help him," said Harry. Always the reasonable one. The redheads rolled their eyes at him.

"Yeah, help him, and ruin our fun," said George. "I don't think so."

"Come on guys!" cried Harry.

"Okay, we'll take a vote," suggested George. "All in favor of not helping Fred, continuing our entertainment, and annoy him about it later, say 'I.'"

'I!' 5 voices chorused, from all the redheads.

"Will you look at that, Harry? You're outnumbered. Better luck next time."

* * *

"If I told you that you had a nice body would you hold it against me?" Fred winked again. _What the hell is up with these Weasley's and winking?!_ thought Harry from outside of the door.

"Hmm, maybe that would work." Fred looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was still a wretched mess. He had a very sudden urge to go to the bathroom. He slowly walked toward the bedroom door. 10 feet away… 8 feet…6 feet…4 feet, just a couple more steps and –

_CRASH!_

* * *

"Oh, Lord, is he okay?!" asked Ginny. She had just watched Fred gracefully walk toward the door, and trip on his own two feet. Note to self: Caution while dancing with men who like you. They might break your toes.

"He's fine. We shouldn't go check. He's made of steel, that one," said Bill. They all watched intently as Fred got up quickly, red in the face.

"Who's made of steel, Bill?" a voice asked from behind them. They all slowly turned around, and were met with the face of…

* * *

"UGH, today is officially the worst day ever!" he yelled. "Why can't this be easier!?"

Fred walked toward his bed, fell face forward, and landed on his soft mattress. He shut his eyes and breathed deeply. _In, out, in, out_, he thought. He felt better already. He stood up.

He needed more practice.

* * *

"Hermione!" said Ron. Hermione waved.

"What are you doing?" She walked in on them crowding around a barely open door. "Wait, isn't that Fred and George's room?"

"Mhm, you're missing quite a show," Charlie smiled.

Hermione had a disgusted look on her face. "Gross!"

They all groaned at Hermione's stupidity. "Nothing like that, Mione," Harry said.

"Yeah, shame on you for thinking that way," Ginny teased. "Fred's asking himself out."

"So he's turned into Malfoy?" Hermione asked.

They all laughed, and nodded.

"His hand got stuck in his hair, so take a look at that mess. His brush stayed in there, too. It's bushier than your hair was, no offense," said Bill. Hermione laughed, rolled her eyes, and nodded.

"And he's using really bad pick up lines. 'If you were a booger, I'd pick you first," Ginny said disgusted.

Hermione laughed. "Well, who's he practicing for?" she asked.

"We don't know," confessed Ron.

George grinned. "I do!"

Six confused heads turned toward him. "Okay, he's practicing for…"

* * *

"I hope you know CPR, because you take my breath away," he tried. "Wow, corny." _Ha, now he thinks its corny, _thought Charlie from outside of the door.

"This might actually work," he said. He walked toward the door again, and continued, "but I really need to use the loo."

This time, he was careful about his footing, but he wasn't so careful about opening the door.

* * *

George couldn't finish his sentence, since someone opened the door. "Hermione?" said a voice from the doorway. Everyone jumped at the sound, feeling thoroughly surprised. They weren't paying any attention to Fred's show since Hermione showed up.

"Hey, Fred. Guess what your brothers, sister, and Harry were doing?" she said. Everyone glared at her.

"W-wha-what?" he asked, completely forgetting about his terrible hair-do. Oh no, stuttering.

"They were spying on your 'practicing,'" she giggled. Fred stared wide eyed at his 'audience,' then turned beet red. _Embarrassing,_ he thought. _I'll survive. Hopefully. _He was starting to moisten up in various places. _Uh-oh_, Fred thought.

"And you weren't?" he asked Hermione without looking her in the eye. He didn't need anymore embarrassment.

She shook her head 'no.' "I just got here. What'd I miss? It seems important."

Fred hesitated. Should he tell her? He opened his mouth to speak, but someone beat him to the punch, "We told you, he was practicing asking _you_ out," said George. He grinned, happy he finally got it out in the open.

Hermione stared at George, with her mouth open. "You didn't tell me he was practicing for _me._"

Fred wanted to disappear into his room again. _Ugh, thanks for keeping a secret, brother,_he thought as his hole face turned Weasley-red.

"Uh, guys," Hermione said, looking at the 'audience.' "Can you leave us alone for a minute? I came up here to tell you that dinner's ready anyway. We'll be down in a minute."

The six people nodded, and headed down the stairs. Fred gulped. What was going to happen? _She's going to say no,_ he thought. He kept his composure, ready for the worst that was yet to come. He was going to go down a man.

Sort of.

"I'm sorry for everything, Hermione. I understand if you say no, I just like you a whole lot and just thought you might say yes, but now I see that I'm wrong and my practicing was pointless because you're in love with Ron, and I'll never have a chance with you, but it was nice to dream, even for just a little while, so you don't have to apologize or anything, we can just live our lives as if this didn't happen." Fred was out of breath after that apology slash confession slash rejection. _Smooth, Fred,_ he thought.

Hermione looked at him for a while, not saying anything. She just stood there and looked at him. Fred was about to start rambling again when Hermione opened her mouth and said, "'If you were a booger, I'd pick you first'? Come on, Fred, I thought you were smarter than that." She laughed. Fred was sure she was laughing at him. "If I'm going on this date with you, you'll need to learn some better lines. What about, "You must be a parking ticket because you've got fine written all over you.' That would definitely win my heart."

Fred was shocked. No – shocked was not a strong enough word. Amazed? Hmm… Aghast? Close. Stupefied? Yes. Fred was stupefied – without the use of a wand, of course. He was completely astonished by Hermione's words. Finally, it clicked.

Had she… had she said yes?

"You're…accepting?" She nodded. "But…I haven't even asked you correctly, yet!" Hermione laughed again. He loved that sound.

"Then ask me before I change my mind," she warned.

Fred grinned, and cleared his throat loudly. He wasn't nervous anymore.

He was cured!

"Oh, hello, Hermione. Lovely day, isn't it?" He curtsied. "I was just wondering if you would like to go out on a date with yours truly." He winked at her. "Of course, that shouldn't take much time. I _am _irresistible." Hermione laughed.

"Oh yes, Fred. _Extremely_. I'd be delighted to go on a date with you and your bushy hair," she said, smiling brightly. Fred mock glared at her, laughed, then took her hand.

"One more thing, Hermione," he said, seriously. He leaned in closer to Hermione's face, their noses close to touching. He stopped momentarily opened his mouth and whispered,

"I may not be Fred Flinstone, but I know how to make your Bed Rock," and he kissed her deeply.

Hermione pulled away reluctantly, but she had to say something. "That was much better than the booger pick up line. Good job." She pecked him on the lips.

Fred rolled his eyes. "Well, what can I say?" he said, grinning. "Practice makes perfect."

**Fin.**

* * *

**I had fun writing that. xD **

**Anyway, review, please? They're greatly appreciated.**

**I'll give you my love, my soul, a lap dance, whatever.  
Just kidding. :P **

**Please and thank you.**


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